Crystal clear water hems me in tighter than a warm blanket. Bubbles dance off my fingers as they glide through the singing water. All muscles are hard at work but I’m completely at rest. Some call swimming exercise. I prefer to call it the most relaxing part of my day. I am not a good swimmer. I survived lessons as a scared child… but never learned anything fancy. Instead of springing up when our rooster crows to head for the gym, most mornings I justify pulling the warm covers back over my sleepy head. Nevertheless, the days I grudgingly …
